My gentle bully

Hanni Pham

"This shit's fire," I mumbled, my mouth full. A stunning array of flavors exploded on my tongue-the malty crust of excellent bread, the tang of unfamiliar vegetables, and the novel tastes of richly topped dishes. I'd never eaten like this before. Survival had always been my priority. An orphan since infancy, I didn't even know my parents.

I'd grown up on the streets, stealing enough to survive each day. No homemade soup, no fast food, no pizza, no cake, nothing like this gourmet meal.

So forgive my enthusiastic eating and my lack of table manners. I was aware of the disapproving stares, particularly from the man across from me, his jaw clenched in disgust.

"Indeed it is," he said, lips pursed.

I looked up, mid-bite. His self-importance was evident-from his clean-shaven jaw and sharp chin to his pinched eyebrows and slicked-back hair. His arrogance was almost palpable, like the cloying scent of his cologne, emanating from his designer suit. Every conversation with him was dull and sterile, which wouldn't have been so bad if he kept his hands to himself.

But that was too much to ask of the great Marsh-whatever his last name was. The pervert. I wasn't sure what he felt for me, nor did I care. The only warning Cara had given me was to avoid crossing him. I'd crossed him, and I was paying the price-covered in bandages.

The money was incredible, though. We'd meet at his mansion or in luxury malls and restaurants. He'd let me buy whatever I wanted, pay for extravagant meals. He clearly believed money could buy anything.

That's why I'd bitten my tongue when he made condescending remarks, why I'd resisted the urge to slap him when he grimaced. Why I hadn't retaliated when he'd tried to force himself on me. I'd drugged him and gaslighted him the next morning. I'm practically an angel.

But my patience was wearing thin. I was on the edge.

I was grateful for his silence as I finished the appetizers. A waiter cleared our plates and served wine. I sipped slowly, waiting for the main course.

The restaurant hummed with conversation and laughter, a piano playing softly. It was a world I didn't belong in, I thought, gazing at the opulent chandeliers.

"Cease the barbaric display, Leia. What are you trying to get at?" Marsh adjusted his napkin, without looking at me.

So controlling.

"My bad," I muttered, fiddling with my hoodie sleeves. I hated dresses. I'd only recently worn them, and the hassle wasn't worth it. I would have preferred pants and a shirt, but Marsh insisted on formal attire.

I swung my legs, bored. "Nice weather," I said.

"It's shitty. I don't like it."

I rolled my eyes. Pessimism was his default setting.

The waiter returned with succulent steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. I dug in, using the knife and fork awkwardly. I finished my wine and poured more.

Marsh's napkin fell, and the waiter's shoe slipped on it. He stumbled, sending creamy sauce splashing onto Marsh's suit.

I desperately wanted to laugh. I covered my mouth, but a few snickers escaped. Marsh noticed, his face flushing with anger. His bodyguard tensed.

"What the f*** was that?" Marsh growled. "You trying to be funny? I didn't order a ranch shower!"

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to," I faked an apology.

"Goddamn it," Marsh muttered, inspecting his suit. "You know how much this costs? More than your salary, and more than your job after tonight."

The waiter was stammering, but I wasn't listening. The room was silent, everyone watching.

I stood before I could think. Something snapped. Maybe it was his tone, his treatment of the waiter. These rich people played make-believe with fancy dinners while belittling anyone beneath them, then taking advantage of them. I knew Marsh's type too well.

"It's not his fault," I said, meeting Marsh's surprised, furious gaze. "Your napkin made him trip. The whole plate could have fallen on you."

"I don't care," he shouted. "It happened, and someone has to pay! This suit cost-"

"It's a suit," I interrupted, calmer than I expected. "It's replaceable. A hard-working man's job is not."

His face reddened. He looked around frantically, searching for someone to blame. His eyes landed on mine.

"You," he barked. "Sit down! We'll handle this-"

"Handle this my ass! You can't handle a good idea. And we both know you don't get many."

"What nonsense are you spouting?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Just shut up and sit down!" he snapped.

"What makes you think you can give orders like that?" I grinned, enjoying his surprise at being disobeyed. "You think you can take me wherever you want, tell me what to do and wear? Throw money and threats around and expect everything to be okay?"

I paused. The piano had stopped. Everyone was silent.

"Well, guess what?" I continued. "It's not okay. I'm tired of your stupid face, your complaining, your snobby bitchiness, and all this pretending. You're a despicable human being, Marsh."

I spat his last name out with venom. He leaned in, his face close to mine.

"If you value your dignity, your shame, your pride-actually, scrap that. If you value your life, you will shut your mouth and sit down."

"F*** you," I whispered. "I've always wanted to say that. And you wear too much cologne."

His face was crimson. I expected him to attack, but he didn't move. He only stopped his bodyguard from approaching. I stormed out, not looking back. His murderous glare sent a shiver down my spine as the door slammed.

He called out, "Wait!" and tried to reach me, but I ran. He chased me, but a girl tripped him.

"Woah, finally free!" I exclaimed. "I'm not going back to that jerk. He wanted me to be his wife! What a disgusting human being! Good thing I escaped a ripe virgin!" 😂

Cool night air hit my face. I breathed deeply, gazing at the city lights and the Argent Palace. But I wasn't thinking about the view. I'd thrown away my only source of income. I didn't regret it, but the adrenaline was fading, and I was walking down a lonely sidewalk. I'd crossed the one man I'd been warned not to cross, humiliated him, and incurred his wrath. And that was terrifying.

My legs moved mechanically, carrying me through ever-less-spectacular streets, away from the bright lights of Seoul.

"What a mess," I sighed. "I'm hungry. I guess I'll sleep in the street like I used to." Why do I have this life? I thought, before falling asleep.

TBC.✌